v12-final1

“Yeah, me too,” he said, eyes glazing, his mind filled with
memories of so many white Christmases.
“I hope you’re home next Christmas, Daddy. It doesn’t feel like
Christmas without you here.”
“I know, Sweetie. I’ll be there. Our unit won’t have to deploy
again for at least two years once we get back. And I’ll be out by then so I
won’t have to go with ‘em!”
“You’d better be out,” his wife, Tristan said, appearing on his
screen behind Hailey. She was holding their son.
“I promised you,” he said. “Trust me, after the time we’ve had
here, I wouldn’t re-enlist if they held me at gun point. How’s that fat little
baby doing today?”
“He’s great. Say hello to your daddy,” she said, holding the infant
in front of the web cam. He reached out for the screen of the laptop,
attempting to eat the corner.
“He puts everything in his mouth,” Hailey said. “That’s gross.”
“You were like that too, Sweetie,” he said. “That’s just what babies
do.”
“How’s everything going over there?” Tristan asked.
“Everything’s fine,” he said, the sound of a mortar going off half
a mile away in the background.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Someone slammed the door,” he said. He had gotten used to
the mortar attacks, because they came every day and every night. They
sounded like fire crackers compared to the I.E.D. blasts that went off
when they were on convoy security missions, providing security for
trucks transporting military necessities to bases all over northern Iraq.
“Oh,” she said.
“You seem more scared than I am,” he said, laughing at her,
thankful she had believed his lie.
“We just worry,” she said. “This is as hard on us as it is you.” She
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